the cool winter nights 
sweeten into balmy spring

but there is one piece missing
from this image

an absence that lingers upon my skin
like a flawless fingerprint

this thirst
this famine
holds fast to my flesh

a cloven spirit

a past that guards its secrets
with chastity belts

a wanting
a reckoning

who will help me hold this emptiness?



i said,
where have you been?

she said,
entrenched within
the liminal spaces...
seeking... sorting... sitting.

i said,
and, what have you reaped?

she said,
a flow that words would but imprison.